Brighton Boys with the Submarine Fleet by James R. Driscoll
CHAPTER XVI
IN THE WIRELESS STATION
In less time than it takes to tell, Jack was bundled into the longsteel case, his arms stretched over his head well forward toward thebowcap. So tightly was he wedged in the aperture that his shouldersrubbed against both sides of the tube. Before climbing into thechamber he had hastily crammed a handful of waste inside his hat toact as a cushion for the water pressure against his skull that wouldbe inevitable once his body was thrust out into the sea.
"Are you all ready, Mr. Hammond?" called his commander as he bent overthe mouth of the breech cap and reached forward to give the boy afriendly tug at one foot.
"All ready, sir," answered Jack.
The breech cap was swung shut and Jack could hear the click of themechanism as he was locked in by his comrades and they prepared toshoot their human torpedo out of the sunken submarine.
Now he was completely isolated in the dark, cold tube. The voicesof his companions were not audible. It was a time to test the nerveof the most callous individual.
Whis-s-s-h! The compressed air came hurtling into the tube with a roaras of a mighty Niagara. It enveloped him and seemed pressing againsthis body like many tons of steel. Instinctively the lad inhaleddeeply and gritted his teeth.
In another moment the bowcap was swung open and then came a rush of airthat shot him forward at a dizzy velocity. As though driven by theforce of a thousand tornadoes the boy felt himself, catapulted out ofthe tube and into the cold salt water that closed around him like agreat wall.
His senses reeled and his brain was numbed by the terrible roaring thatpounded in his ears. But he had the will to live and he began his fight.
He brought his legs into play and swam upward furiously. Would heever get there? It seemed an eternity as he battled through the massof the sea. His arms and legs were getting numb now; his lungs seemedtorn to shreds and his head throbbed with intense pain.
And then, when he was almost lapsing into unconsciousness, his headshot up out of the waves, and the boy realized that he had reachedthe crest of the mountain of water!
For a moment Jack felt paralyzed in every muscle. Then, as he breathedagain the cold pure air of the outside world, his senses came strugglingback through the haze into which he had felt himself drifting and hewas invigorated again. With a great effort the boy turned over on hisback with his face to the sky and floated luxuriously, with arms andlegs limp on the surface of the water.
Resting thus for a time, he turned finally and struck out with a boldstroke, determined at once to make note of his position. It all cameback to him in a flash---the unknown ship that Sammy Smith had heardworking its way up along the coast.
Was it near? Was it friend or enemy? Would he be seen?
Jack lifted his head and scanned the horizon. It was early morningand dawn was breaking out of the sky. The first thing that attractedhis attention was a heavy pall of smoke that hung over the water. Thesea was rough.
Carried up on the crest of a wave he beheld the ship that the microphonehad discovered for him in the wireless room. It was now a long waypast the spot where the _Dewey_ lay submerged and had passed northward,several hundred yards nearer the coast. Carried fifty or a hundredfeet forward through the water by the force of the expulsion fromthe torpedo tube, the youth had emerged in the widened wake of thevessel. Apparently it was a German warship returning to its basein Wilhelmshaven after a night raid off Dunkirk or Ostend. It washugging the coast fortifications now for protection.
Floating alone in the ocean, a mere speck in the water, Jack turnedtoward land. It was his only salvation now.
Tearing off his hat and with it the wet waste he had inserted as acushion for his head, he struck out with long bold strokes. The freshair and the salt water invigorated him wonderfully after the longconfinement in the stifling atmosphere of the _Dewey_.
As he swam he thought of the boys back there in Uncle Sam's submersibleand how they, too, would be negotiating this same swim veryshortly---provided they escaped as safely as he had.
Before his mind flashed also the picture of what might happen to himwhen at last his feet would strike bottom and he would make his waythrough the surf to shore. He knew full well that practically all ofthe Belgian seafront was held by the Germans. It was not likely hecould go very far without encountering a Hun coast patrol. But hereserved to make the best of the situation and trust to luck.
After a hard swim he found himself in the surf and then his feettouched bottom and he made his way shoreward through the breakers.Fatigued by the trip, he threw himself down on the sand, puffingand blowing from the effects of his fight in the water.
As he rested, he heard the murmur of a skyplane's motors and turnedto behold a giant Gotha machine heading up the coast. Stretchinghimself out quickly, as though to simulate the posture of a drownedman cast up by the waves, he lay wide-eyed watching the German birdman.Undoubtedly, it was one of the aerial coast patrol.
Five hundred feet above, it lazily floated along. It came closer andcloser, finally flying almost directly overhead. With bated breaththe boy on the sand waited for its passage and heaved a great sigh ofrelief as it purred onward in the direction of Blankenberghe withoutgiving any indication as to whether its pilot had noted the body onthe sand below.
Jack scrambled to his feet.
"Might as well find out what's doing here," he muttered to himself.He peeled off his wet clothes. One at a time he wrung out hisgarments and shook the water out of his long black hair. Then heturned for a glance around him. In front of him loomed the sanddunes, their weird shifting formations dotted here and there withscraggly underbrush. Down the coast the picture was the same.
Turning, the lad gazed northward in the general direction where heknew lay Holland and her neutral shores.
"That's where I go from here," he said cheerfully.
He had jogged along not more than a quarter of a mile when the coastline veered sharply to right, leaving only the expanse of oceanlooming up beyond the stretch of sandy beach. Following along thecurve in the coast line, Jack found himself presently on the shoreof a small land-locked bay. The mouth of the inlet was barely wideenough to permit the passage of a good-sized vessel.
But neither ship nor human being was in sight.
"Might be one of the secret passageways used by the undersea boats,"Jack mused as he followed the curving line of the bay away from theocean.
Presently he came to an abrupt halt at a break in the beach wherethe rolling sand dunes fell sheer away to the mouth of anotherwaterway---this time a small stream that wound its way inland througha tortuous channel. It was no more than two hundred feet across.
Jack realized this must be one of the canals with which the coastwas known to be ribboned. For a moment he stood in contemplationof the sight. Now he was more than ever convinced that he hadstumbled into a U-boat base. The love of adventure gripped him andhe determined to press on.
For the next ten minutes he threaded his way along the canal bank.Suddenly, as he turned one of the snake-like twists in the course ofthe waterway, he found himself facing an old stone windmill that stoodalmost directly on the canal bank. It was only a stone's throw away.
Instinctively the boy threw himself upon the sandy loam. There wasnot a sign of life about the abandoned structure. In the peacefuldays before the war it had, no doubt, been used by a Belgian farmerto water his fields.
But now Jack saw something that set his heart a-flutter. From thedome-like crest of the windmill stretched a number of wires tautlydrawn and leading away to some point beyond his range of view. Fora moment he contemplated the scene in silence with tingling nerves.Satisfied at last that his presence was not yet known---if any humanbeing was within the stone tower---he struggled up to a kneelingposition and looked beyond the windmill.
What he saw now was a ramshackle farmhouse apparently deserted. Upthe side of the dilapidated building ran a great wide stone chimneythat reared its head th
"A secret wireless station!" exclaimed Jack to himself. "Undoubtedlyin the hands of the Germans and being used by them in the directionof their U-boat fleets in the North Sea!" The boy's pulses quickenedat the thought.
Like an Indian on the trail he wormed his way forward until he cameat last within ten feet of the windmill. There was a window beforehim. Slowly and cautiously he drew himself up to one side of thecasement and then peered in through the latticed shutter.
At a table, on which was spread out the wireless apparatus, was auniformed figure. A helmet lay on the floor and the man's head wasbowed in his arms. He was asleep. A lantern hung on the wall towardthe canal side and cast a dim flicker over the cramped interior ofthe place. Stretching himself up on tiptoe, Jack surveyed the room,but noted not another person in sight.
Quick as a flash the lad withdrew from the window. His plan of actionnow was clear. He must get control of that wireless key and flash amessage to the United States fleet in the North Sea!
Stealthily he began to circle the stone structure. Momentarily heexpected to hear the challenge of a sentry; but he was not molested.
In a few moments his foot touched a large flat stone step before ahalf closed doorway through which the light of the lantern cast itsflickering rays. Jack looked about him for a weapon of some kindand noted a long piece of two-by-four that apparently had been usedto prop open the door of the wireless station. Stooping over he drewthe club toward him and then turned to face the door and the dangerthat lay beyond it.
Fearlessly but with the lithe movement of the crafty panther Jackstepped across the threshold. As he did so the German wirelessoperator stirred in his sleep, lifted his head and gazed full uponthe American youth. With a snarl of rage and a muttered curse theburly Teuton sprang to his feet and reached for a heavy revolverthat lay on the table.
But Jack was too quick for him. With a long leap forward and asmashing blow he brought the heavy stick of wood down upon the headof the surprised operator. The German sank in his chair and slippedto the floor, the revolver rolling off the table with a loud clatter.
Pausing only long enough to note that his captive was completelyknocked out by the blow, the Yankee lad sprang to the wireless andopened the key. Now he was grateful for the wireless instructiongood old Sammy Smith had given him back there on the _Dewey_.
"Z-z-z-z-z-z!" the wires snapped with their message, as he flashedforth the code call of the United States fleet.
Would he be heard? Was there any vessel within range that wouldpick up his random call. For five minutes the boy rattled awayand then closed the key to listen. What was his joy to get an almostimmediate response. It was the U.S.S. _Farragut_, a destroyer,reporting her position and asking what was wanted.
In rapid-fire reply Jack related the sinking of the _Dewey_, gave herlatitude and longitude, and urged immediate assistance.
"But where in the world are you sending your radio message from?" camethe query out of the sky.
"In a German wireless station on the Belgian coast just about six milessouth-----"
But the message was never finished, for at that moment Jack heard aslight movement behind him and turned to look into the revolver of abulky German who, in broken English, commanded the American to surrender!